


Tipsy-Turvy

by truth_renowned



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: Daniel arrives at Stark's mansion ready to work, but Peggy derails his plans.





	Tipsy-Turvy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kar98k for the prompt: "Daniel comes back home to find Peggy "slightly tipsy"."

Daniel stepped inside of Stark’s mansion as he shifted the file folders under his arm. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Edwin Jarvis’s deflated look.

“Good evening, Chief Sousa. I regret to inform you that Miss Carter is not ready.”

Daniel nodded. “That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I'm afraid it’s not that easy,” Jarvis replied, his look now almost painful. “I don’t think she will be… in the right frame of mind for work tonight.”

_Neither am I, if you’re asking..._

“Is she not feeling well?”

“Oh, no. Quite the opposite, actually.” Jarvis sighed. “Perhaps it would be easier if I showed you. This way, please.”

Daniel followed the butler through the elegantly furnished parlor, then down the hall to a narrow stairwell. Where the hell was Jarvis taking him? He’d already seen the cellar and didn’t need another tour.

“I did try to reach you before you drove over here,” Jarvis said as they walked down the stairs, “but Miss Roberts said you had already left. There was no answer at your house.”

“I came straight here, didn’t stop off at home.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Daniel heard giggling and a few unintelligible words. One voice he recognized as Ana Jarvis. The other one… was that Peggy? 

_Since when does Peggy giggle?_

He and Jarvis walked into the cellar, the bulk of the walls covered with shelving displaying what must have been hundreds of bottles of wine. More giggling echoed from a back room. Daniel shook his head, not believing he was hearing the stoic, proper Peggy Carter giggling like a schoolgirl.

As they approached the room’s doorway, Daniel saw Peggy and Ana sitting at a wrought iron and glass bistro set. The women hadn’t noticed him or Jarvis. In front of each woman sat a half-filled old-fashioned glass, and between them was an exquisitely decorated glass bottle.

“Mr. Stark’s lone bottle of Macallan Fine and Rare Collection Scotch whisky,” Jarvis said, his voice low and somewhat sad. “Thousands of dollars worth of amber beauty. It used to be under lock and key, but someone’s penchant for picking locks took care of that.”

Daniel spied Peggy’s lock-picking tools on the table.

“That particular type of whisky goes down quite smoothly,” Jarvis continued. “It also has the ability to sneak up on you when you least expect it. I have no doubt Miss Carter and my wife will feel the effects soon.”

Another peal of giggles erupted.

“Sounds like they’re feeling it right now,” Daniel replied.

Peggy’s head whipped around. “Oh, Daniel! You’re here!”

She stumbled out of the chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, the files under his arm dropping to the floor, as he had to steady himself from her attack.

Daniel opened his mouth to say something, and Peggy promptly covered her lips with his, giving him a sloppy yet passionate kiss with absolutely no concern that they had an audience. 

She tasted of whisky, obviously. Very strong whisky, so strong he thought he might be able to get drunk just off her breath. Not that he didn’t feel drunk from her kisses normally, but this was different. 

_Jarvis isn't kidding. That shit is strong!_

“They are so cute together,” Ana said, her words slurring into one. “Don’t you think so… Oh!”

Daniel finally pried Peggy’s lips from his in time to see Ana wobbling over to Jarvis, her face contorted in pain.

“Edwin, I don’t feel so good,” Ana said weakly as she all but collapsed in Jarvis’s arms.

“I’m sure you don’t, dear.” He looked at Daniel. “I’m going to take her upstairs and get her settled.”

“Go. I’ll make sure Peggy makes it back to her suite.”

“Thank you, Chief Sousa.”

He watched as Jarvis walked a shaky Ana out of the room. 

“Poor dear,” Peggy said, her words not quite as slurred as Ana’s but close. “Guess she can’t hold her liquor.”

He knew Peggy could hold her booze, so she must have downed a lot to be three sheets to the wind. 

_More like six sheets..._

“Let’s sit down,” he said, nodding toward the bistro table.

Peggy shrugged and let go of him, moving to the nearest chair and plopping down in a very unladylike manner.

Daniel knelt on his good leg and gathered the papers, shoving them all in one file folder; he'd have to sort them out later.

“Oh, yes, the Speaker case,” Peggy said, trying to adopt a professional tone but not succeeding. “Let’s have it.”

He made his way to the table and placed the files out of her reach. “We can do that later. How about we talk first?”

She scowled. “I thought you were here to work.”

“Maybe I’m just here to see you.”

A smile bloomed on her face. “Well, then.” Using the table to steady herself, she stood and moved the few steps to his chair. Before he knew what was happening, she straddled the chair and lowered herself onto his lap. “Here I am.”

He winced as she sat, one butt cheek sitting on the point where his leg and prosthetic were joined. She didn't seem to notice.

“Uh, Peggy?”

“Yes?” Her fingers laced through his hair as her tongue peeked out, swiping at the cleft in his chin.

_Oh God._

“I think that you…” His voice trailed off as he felt her teeth nip at his lower lip.

“I what?” she whispered before slamming her lips to his.

The kiss may have earned low marks on etiquette but it earned very high marks on passion. The kiss was even more heated than the one in his office. And much, much more animated. And completely uncontrolled.

Since the office kiss, he could tell Peggy was holding back. Even that kiss -- The Kiss, as he liked to think of it -- had a hint of reservation on her part, still keeping that wall she'd had years to build up. He knew it would take time to chip away at that wall, certainly more than the few weeks they had been dating. He didn't know that wall could crumble in front of him with the right brand of whisky.

But it wasn't really crumbling. It was weakened by a flood of alcohol. Jarvis was right. Peggy wasn't in the right frame of mind for work. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the right frame of mind for… this, either. 

He felt her hands move from his hair to his chest. It took a few seconds for him to realize she was trying to unbutton his shirt.

He abruptly pulled back from the kiss. 

“Peggy.”

“This is much better than working, don't you think?”

_Oh yeah._

She moved in for another kiss, immediately attacking the buttons again. He gathered what little self-control he had left, grabbing her hands and turning his head before her lips could make contact. 

“Peggy! Stop!”

“Why?”

_Good question._

Her mouth was a hair’s breadth from his ear. “I want you.” She punctuated her words by grinding against his crotch.

_Whoa Nelly._

“No.”

_Yes._

She tilted her head, confused. “No?”

_Yes, yes, yes!_

“No.”

“You don’t want me?” She wriggled in his lap again, pointing out his growing interest. “Are you sure about that?”

He coughed out a laugh. “Yes to both. I do want you, Peggy. Very much. But not like this.”

“Like what?”

“When one of us is under the influence of a very pricey and very potent bottle of whisky.”

She scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re perfectly drunk.”

“Oh, bollocks! I’m not drunk. I’m just… slightly tipsy.” She nipped at his ear.

“You’re not in control of your faculties.”

_Not that I'm doing much better..._

“My falcul… faclut…”

“Faculties?” he offered with a smirk.

“My fac...ul...ties are just fine. See?”

“Off,” he said, his hands under her arms, trying to get her to move.

She jumped from his lap, almost falling to the ground. Daniel stood quickly, nearly toppling himself, but he planted his crutch and stabilized them both.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lower body to his. “Daniel Sousa, I never realized you were such a prude.”

“I'm not a prude, but I draw the line at taking advantage of someone.”

She leaned her head next to his ear. “Even if that someone wants to shag you so hard that you won’t remember your own name?”

_Shit._

_Shit, shit, shit!_

He swallowed. “If that someone can't stop slurring her words? It's not happening.”

“Bollocks!” She pulled away, so suddenly that she lost her balance and fell, landing on her backside.

“Are you okay?” He offered a hand, which she batted away.

“Yes, just dandy,” she bit out, rolling over and getting to her knees, facing away from him. “I can get up on my own. I am not drunk.”

“Then how about you stand up and I take you to your room?”

She turned her head and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“And then you can sleep it off and I can go home and get this work done.”

“Prude,” she mumbled, facing away from him again and clumsily getting to her feet.

She must have stood up too quickly, as she swayed but righted herself. She then whirled around to face him, but the look on her face told him something was wrong.

“Peg, are you okay?”

“Yes. Fine.” Her audible swallow and sour look told him the opposite was true.

“You sure?”

She swallowed again. “Perhaps I did indulge too much.”

He reached for her, lightly grasping her arm. “Come on. I’ll help you upstairs.

She nodded weakly, and after grabbing the folders, he led her to the cellar stairs. She took them slowly, with him behind her. If she fell backwards, they both were going down, but at least he’d take the brunt of it.

The stair climb was, thankfully, uneventful, and he let her lead him down the hall, his hand at the small of her back the entire way. They made it to the kitchenette outside her suite before she swayed. He moved beside her and saw her face; he had just enough time to rush her over to the sink and gather her hair away from her face before she threw up. The stench wafting from the sink made him want to upchuck himself, but he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

After half a minute of her letting loose in the sink, she raised her head and sighed. Daniel ran water in the sink long enough for the foulness to wash down the drain.

She grabbed a nearby dish towel and wiped her mouth. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Can you make it to the bedroom?”

She nodded and was true to her word. Entering the suite, he led her to the bed but she pulled away, making a beeline to the bathroom. He tossed the folders on the table next to her bed, then followed her, arriving at her side seconds before she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and threw up again. He kneeled on his good knee, pulling her hair back.

When she was done, she leaned her elbows on the toilet seat. “Did you get the number of that bus that hit me?”

Daniel chuckled. “Yeah, it’s called Macallan Fine and Rare Collection.”

“Rare maybe, but I find nothing fine about it,” she said weakly.

He helped her to her feet, and she slowly turned around to face the counter. Scanning the counter, he found her toothbrush and a tube of Pepsodent toothpaste. He squeezed a glob on the toothbrush and placed it in her hand.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

After she did a quick brushing, he led her into the bedroom and straight to the bed.

She turned her back to him. “Could you?”

It took him a few seconds to realize she wanted him to help her undress. 

_Oh shit._

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He unzipped her dress, swallowing as the fabric fluttered to the floor to reveal a black slip, possibly the one he saw her in all that time ago -- had it only been two years? -- in the locker room in New York. That had been a cruel joke orchestrated by Jack Thompson. This right here also was a cruel joke but orchestrated by whisky. Undressing Peggy and not being able to follow through was pure torture. 

He sat her on the edge of the bed and sat next to her, motioning for her to lie down.

She shook her head. “Can't sleep in stockings. They chafe.”

He tried not to think where the stockings would chafe -- okay, he thought about exactly where they would chafe -- as she lifted up the slip past her knees to mid-thigh. He tried not to look -- okay, he looked the entire time -- as she fumbled with the garter straps to unhook the stockings. 

Her hands went under the slip and she shimmied her hips. He wasn't sure what to think until he saw the garter as she pulled it down her legs and kicked it off. He was trying his best to be a gentleman, but she was making it very difficult, sitting on the bed half-naked, flinging her garter belt to the floor while the slip was riding up to her upper thighs.

_Focus, man. And not on her legs!_

When he finally pulled his gaze from her thighs, he found her smiling at him.

“I assume I can’t talk you into joining me,” she said with a hint of playfulness.

He smiled back. “Raincheck.”

She nodded and laid back on the bed. He pulled the sheet and bedspread over her. He started to stand but stopped at her hand on his forearm.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“I love you, Daniel.”

He felt a fluttering in his stomach. How long had he waited to hear those words? 

_Too bad she won’t remember them in the morning._

He pushed her hair from her cheek. “I love you, too, Peg.”

She smiled again and sighed. In less than a minute, she was asleep.

He should go home. He should but he wasn’t going to. She might need him, might need help getting to the bathroom again. 

_Just keep telling yourself that, buddy._

Grabbing the folders, he made his way to the small sitting room right outside her bedroom and settled on the couch. It was close enough that he could hear her if she called out, but far enough away to allow her some modesty and solitude, both of which he was sure she’d need when she sobered up.

He smiled as he cracked open the file. Even nauseous, she was still trying to seduce him, trying to get him to sleep in the bed with her. Were he a weaker man, he would have taken her up on it in a heartbeat. Unlucky for him, he wasn’t a weaker man. 

_Sometimes having morals stinks._

His smile faded as he thought about what she had said. The shag comment was especially interesting, but it was the four words she said right before she went to sleep that echoed in his mind: ‘I love you, Daniel’. 

He sighed, knowing he’d likely have to wait a while to hear those words from her again, without the help of liquid courage.

\------

Daniel moved his neck side to side, wincing as he heard the cracking. He’d spent the night on the couch, which was just long enough for him to stretch out on, with his head propped against the arm. Not the most comfortable way to sleep but he'd been in worse situations. He also slept with his prosthetic on, which wasn't the smartest move, but again, he'd been in worse situations. 

He swung his legs off the couch and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“I thought I heard stirring. Did you sleep here?”

He looked up to see Peggy, dressed in a flowered silk robe, standing just in front of the archway separating the sitting room from the dressing area. Her hair was wild, makeup smeared, eyes droopy, mouth stretched in a grimace.

_Absolutely gorgeous._

He shrugged shyly. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He stood up and walked toward her, his leg not happy at the effort.

“Your leg,” she said.

“Didn't wake up with me. Give it a few minutes.” He smiled. “How are you this morning?”

“I've been better.”

“Headache?”

“Like you would not believe.”

“I would believe. I've been at the business end of some powerful liquor before.”

She shook her head. “Daniel, I am so sorry you had to see me like that.”

“It’s fine,” he replied with a smile. “It was actually fun to see you let go.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was a joy to see me ‘let go’ in the toilet. And the sink.”

“You remember that?”

She nodded. “I remember most of it. I remember that you held my hair while I vomited. Quite romantic.”

“Yes, very romantic,” he said with a laugh.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. It was a thoughtful thing to do. Thank you for that, and for making sure I got back to the room.”

He shrugged, unsure what to say.

“I also remember saying some things.” She gave him a pained smile. “I'm sorry I called you a prude.”

He chuckled. “It's okay.”

“No, it's not. You're not a prude. You're a gentleman, and I very much appreciate that.”

He shrugged again.

“Something else I said.” She hesitated, lowering her gaze for a beat before looking at him. “I said that I love you.”

_Oh no._

He couldn't help his sharp intake of breath. She'd been drunk. He couldn't hold those words against her, no matter how long he'd waited to hear them and how much he wanted to hold onto them.

“Peg, it’s okay.” He looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze.

_Please let me down easily. Please._

“Daniel, look at me.” She waited until he did, then continued. “I meant those words. It wasn't just the booze talking.” She took his hand in hers. “You said you love me. Did you mean it?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation.

She smiled again and squeezed his hand. “I hoped you did and weren't just saying it to appease me in my drunken state.”

“No, I meant it,” he said, taking a step forward to close the distance between them. “I love you, Peggy.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you, too.”

His hands framed her face as their lips met. He’d kissed her dozens of times in the past few weeks, yet this kiss was very different. It wasn't just a kiss between two people who were treading in the dating waters. It was a kiss between two people who took the plunge into the deep end. Two people who had said those three little words to each other. Sober, even.

He resolved the kiss before it got too out of control, lightly touching his forehead to hers. Her content sigh went from his ears straight down his body, to dangerous places.

“I should go,” he said, shocked at how rough his voice was.

She nodded, though he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

He swept a strand of hair from her face before pulling away. She smiled and turned away from him, moving out of the room and around the corner.

He knew he had the goofiest grin on his face but he didn’t care. She loved him. That warranted a goofy grin, and maybe even a loud ‘hell yeah’. He'd save that for the car.

He made it to the door leading out of her suite before her voice stopped him.

“Daniel?”

He turned to see her head peeking around the corner of the archway.

“Yeah?”

“I remembered something else I said.” She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. “Something about wanting to shag you so hard that you forget your own name.”

He nodded, fighting to keep his jaw from dropping open.

“I meant that, too,” she said with a sly smile before her head disappeared back around the corner.

_Whoa Nelly._


End file.
